There was a woman who lived a long time ago — perhaps you’ve heard of her? Anne Bonny. She was one of a very few female pirates. Tomorrow morning I’m heading out to her old stomping grounds for a long anticipated vaca.
I’ve been in a leaving mood since Thursday. That place you get to right before you go on vacation. My bag was packed and I had one shift left at work. And fuck if my mind hadn’t already got me sitting on a tropical beach someplace — ass in the sand, cold beer in my hand. Or maybe a Rum drink — since Pirates/Caribbean/kick ass Rum.
Every now and then we need to run away from home.
Not that home isn’t wonderful. And comfortable. Or cozy.
But we all need to leave the wonderful, comfortable, cozy nest we make for ourselves and venture out into The World — and be an Anne Bonny. Or a Laura Croft. Or an Amelia Earhart. Or a Nellie Bly. Just pick one. There is a plethora of role models to chose from.
At this stage in my life, I am not one to leave creature comforts behind, roughing it these days is a hotel without room service, but still — I go. I travel out and away from my comfort zone.
This time — I’m running away from home to crystal clear blue coves and white sandy beaches. To experience a world so completely different than my concrete paved suburban existence it defies words.
In the Caribbean — it’s always the colors that hit you first. The blues are bluer, the yellows are warmer. Every hue is richer — darker — deeper — more intense. As though The Divine saved Her best crayons for that part of the world. The flavors are next — Real Jerk Chicken (like my friend Yvette makes) — Blue Mountain Coffee — Red Stripe Beer — Mango Rum — and of course — Rum cake. It’s different having these things where they were born, made fresh by the people who do it right. Because in the Caribbean — even the coffee is better. Really — really — really better.
You feel the honor of being a guest — in a completely different world — sharing the gift of someone’s most beautiful country. Because every where else you go in the world — people are kind. And generous.
I fly skies. I sail seas. I land in lands where my native tongue is not spoken so much. I see another perspective. One which holds a variety of citizens, beliefs, and traditions. So much to learn, to do, to experience! Because my country is young — and many times a foolish adolescent in the world citizenry. It feeds my soul to meet the people who have lived for generations deep in a culture before Columbus made a wrong turn.
I stretch myself financially, emotionally, physically, and spiritually to travel away from Safe Haven to New Places. I conquer the voices in my head which warn me about Orange Terror Alerts and Noro Viruses. I listen to the pull of my heart which longs for those blue oceans and white beaches.
For the next week or so — I’m going to run away from home. I’m going to head to the places and the people who have got life right. A place where the pace is slower and gentler and Red Stripe with Jerk Chicken is mandatory. And Rum Cake is to die for.
Because not just children get to have adventures and sail the seven seas. Some times grown ups — if we make the time and put the energy into it — get to visit Real Pirate’s Coves.
Take that Disney World.
Namaste.
